Kate Bonnet eBook

From forecastle to quarter-deck, from bowsprit to
taffrail, Blackbeard scrutinized the Revenge.

“What mean you, dog?” he said to Bittern,
Bonnet being at a little distance; “you tell
me he is no mariner. This is a brave ship and
well appointed.”

“Ay, ay,” said the sailing-master, “it
has the neatness of his kitchen or his storehouses;
but if his cables were coiled on his yard-arms or
his anchor hung up to dry upon the main shrouds, he
would not know that anything was wrong. It was
Big Sam Loftus who fitted out the Revenge, and I myself
have kept everything in good order and ship-shape ever
since I took command.”

“Command!” growled Blackbeard. “For
a charge of powder I would knock in the side of your
head for speaking with such disrespect of the brave
Sir Nightcap.”

The supper in the cabin of the Revenge was a better
meal than the voracious Blackbeard had partaken of
for many a year, if indeed he had ever sat down to
such a sumptuous repast. Before him was food and
drink fit for a stout and hungry sea-faring man, and
there were wines and dainties which would have had
fit place upon the table of a gentleman.

Blackbeard was in high spirits and tossed off cup
after cup and glass after glass of the choicest wine
and the most fiery spirits. He clapped his well-mannered
host upon the back as he shouted some fragment of a
wild sea-song.

“And who is this?” he cried, as they rose
from the table and he first caught sight of Ben Greenway.
“Is this your chaplain? He looks as sanctimonious
as an empty rum cask. And that baby boy there,
what do you keep him for? Are they for sale?
I would like to buy the boy and let him keep my accounts.
I warrant he has enough arithmetic in his head to
divide the prize-moneys among the men.”

“He is no slave,” said Bonnet; “he
came to this vessel to bring me a message from my
daughter, but he is an ill-bred stripling, and can
neither read nor write.”

“Then let’s kill him!” cried Blackbeard,
and drawing his pistol he sent a bullet about two
inches above Dickory’s head.

At this the men who had gathered themselves at every
available point set up a cheer. Never before
had they beheld such a magnificent and reckless miscreant.

Dickory did not start or move, but he turned very
pale, and then he reddened and his eyes flashed.
Blackbeard swore at him a great approbative oath.
“A brave boy!” he cried, “and fit
to carry messages if for nothing else. And what
is this nonsense about a daughter?” said he
to Bonnet. “We abide no such creatures in
the ranks of the free companions; we drown them like
kittens before we hoist the Jolly Roger.”